Twisted Fate revised
by hannirose
Summary: When Alanna's true identity was discovered things went wrong and Alanna was thrown in jail. Now she has a choice to make between honor and life. An action romance that is bound to be unforgetable. AlannaGeorge
1. The Betrayal

_Author's Note: I want it to be known that I am STILL writing Thorns, my other Alanna story, but out of the blue I got a review that reminded me that I actually kind of liked this story...and that I hadn't updated in 1 year, 7 months and 1 day. blush So like I have done with Thorns I am revamping this story, I hope you'll enjoy this._

_Cheers,_

_Hannah_

_ps: stuff in stars is direct quotes from In The Hand Of the Goddess. And while I'm at it I do not own, don't sue me._

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_Twisted Fate_

**Chapter One**

Seizing that brief moment when Roger switched swords, Alanna lunged in, slashing the Dukes right arm. Roger yelled in fury as Lightening nipped through muscle. Making an impossibly quick recovery, the Duke lunged back and struck. Alanna stumbled, and the tip of Duke Roger's sword sliced down her chest from collarbone to waist. The special corset she often wore in place of bandaging gave way, its laces cut through. It slid and buckled under her shirt, edges of lace-strings and (to Alanna's embarrassment) the curves of her breasts showing through.

Roger dropped his blade and stood back, his eyes wide with shock.

"Halt!" the King roared, coming to his feet. The crowded room was buzzing as he stared at Alanna.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE"

"You'd better do something about that thing," Thom advised, stepping forward. "I'll explain"

All eyes were fixed on the Master in silver-edged black as Alanna ducked behind a hanging curtain, suddenly glad her lie was over with. She slid the ruined corset from under her slashed shirt as Thom said,

"You'll have to excuse my sister, Majesties." Shaking her head over her brother's nerve, she overlapped the ends of the shirt and tucked them firmly in her breeches.  
"You see, she wanted to be a knight," Thom was explaining. "I wanted to be a sorcerer. We traded places. I think I may gave had the better part of the bargain; I didn't have to lie to people I liked and respected all these years. Here, I brought our birth papers. Her name is Alanna. We're twins."

"This is an outrage!" The King blustered, rising to his feet. He was normally known as the 'Peace-Keeper' but Alanna saw only extreme anger in his normally kind eyes. "This is why you challenged my nephew?" He demanded of Alanna, pointing a steady finger at her. "Because you thought he would see through your disguise?_You_ made those, you are the one killing my wife."

Alanna and Thom both started speaking at once but the King barreled,

"Guards! Seize her!" Alanna was grabbed roughly by two of the King's personal guards. She tried to struggle away from them, but knew it was futile.

She whirled her head around searching with her eyes, and then she saw him: Roger grinning in malicious delight.

She screamed, "No! It's not like that! He's the enemy, not me. Jon! Help me!"

Jon ran forward and said,

"No! Father, don't you see? Alanna didn't hurt Mother, she's not evil, she-"

He was cut off by the Queen saying in a shocked voice,

"You KNEW? You knew she was-was a GIRL? And you didn't turn her in? Jon, I'm ashamed. You-"

The King cut her off,

"You!" He pointed at Alanna, his face so red he looked like he would explode from anger,

"You were plotting treason against our Kingdom." Jon yelled to his father,

"NO! Alanna's not the one"

In his anger the King ordered for guards to restrain Jon and all of Alanna's friends including Sir Myles who were trying to help. He bellowed,

"Take her to the dungeons for plotting against the realm of Tortall and may she rot there!" Alanna screamed in her fury and shouted to Roger,

"YOU'LL GET WHAT YOU DESERVE! I KNOW THE TRUTH, AND SO DO THE GODS! YOU'LL PAY!"

Roger only laughed harder as he watched Alanna dragged off to the dudgeons, all her friends either restrained and yelling or looking particularly dumbfounded.

His plans were going better than he expected.

Jon walked slowly down into the dungeon after arguing with his father for nearly two hours, and being threatened to be thrown in jail himself. He whispered in the dark,

"Alanna"

He heard a curse and blinked in the dim lighting. He squinted and Alanna swam into view at the front of the cell.

"Jon..." She breathed, her purple eyes shining wetly, though Jon knew better than to mention that. "What are they going to do to me"

Jon hesitated, trying to find the best way to say what he knew he had to say,

"Alanna... The King, my father," He grimaced as he said the words,

"My father. He was really shocked, you have to understand. Everyone was and-" He swallowed and in a defeated tone, "He's ordered for you to be killed." Alanna heard his words, but was unable to process them.

"He's ordering the d-death penalty?" Alanna stuttered, trying to understand, not wanting to understand. "You can't be serious. He's going to kill me? Goddess, save me!" She sunk to the ground shaking like a leaf in a storm. One thing echoing through her mind: _She was going to die._

"Alanna!" Jon's urgent voice pushed its way into her head. "I cannot stay, they'll be angry if they find me here. They'll accuse you of witchcraft or something"

There was a deep slam of a heavy door and the of clank footsteps. Jon whispered quickly,

"Goddess bless you, Alanna of Trebond. I'll do what I can." And he was gone.

A light burned bright in Alanna's eyes and through squinted eyes she saw Duke Roger of Conte sneering down at her. He sniffed and said in a taunting tone,

"A _girl_? You must be strong to have gotten past my probing, or bewitched with some evil spirit."

Alanna balled her hands into tight fists and fought to keep herself from throwing herself as the bars.

"So why, Alanna of Trebond," He spat her name out like it left a vile taste on his noble blooded tongue, "why become a knight? So you could bed all the men in this palace? Including my nephew?" Alanna snarled and threw herself at the bars, trying to get at the duke. Roger laughed softly and menacingly at her futile attempt.

"You won't get away with this." Alanna promised him, standing to her full height and staring him squarely in the eye.

"I swear by Mithros. If you try to harm any of the royal family, I will kill you."

Roger's normally handsome face twisted into an ugly mask and he shouted a word Alanna had never heard before.

She felt the spell hit her like a cannon shot. Then she started to burn, starting from the inside, her limbs felt like they were being cut off slowly, one by one. She couldn't help but scream from pain, and fell writhing to the ground, praying for the pain to end.

"_GODDESS HELP ME_!" She roared. Then as quickly as the pain began it stopped, a bright shot off white magic white surrounded her banishing Roger's torture. Fighting for breath she looked up and saw that the Duke had vanished.

"Thank you, Goddess." She mouthed, unable to get the words from her mouth. Slowly her strength returned to her, but with it came a sinking feeling of disappear. Alanna curled into a miserable heap, sobbing for all she was worth.

She had passed all the tests, fought as hard, if not harder, than the other boys. She had been good enough to be the Prince's squire. And now it was all for nothing. They would kill her and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Alanna felt herself giving into her fate. She bit her lip angrily, she would NOT give up! She stood slowly slapping her arms and walking small circles in her prison, trying to keep warm.

"Lass," She heard a quiet whisper. Alanna gasped, but knew instantly who it was. The voice struck a match and Alanna saw the warm eyes of George Cooper looking back at her.

"George!" She said shakily, trying to compose herself. "They're going to kill me, George." She came close to the bars. In a whispered conversation she told George all that had happened.

He nodded and said,

"I won't let that happen. Not while there is still breath in me lungs. Jon said that the trial would be three days hence. But it seems as though they've already stated ye'r fate." He ran a hand through his hair and looking Alanna in the eye. He left out a deep breath and said almost reluctantly,

"I can get ye out of this. But...but there's somethin' ye have to do in return, there's no help for it. My people would rise against me if ye don't"  
Alanna waited a second then impatiently said,

"What is it? Tell me George, I am not afraid." George sighed and said softly without meeting her violet eyes with his hazel ones,

"Ye have 't swear by the Trickster God 't serve, in the court of the Rogue. There is no other choice, I am sorry lass." Alanna bit her lip, instantly conflicted. Serving the Rogue would go against all she had learned here. All the training of right over wrong and defending her country and its people. She asked George,

"Can you give me time, to think about it?" George nodded slowly but said in an almost fearful voice,

"They will kill ye, Alanna. It's this or death, I can't help ye as much as I wish I could. And for that I am sorry." He paused, "I will come 't ye again at dawn of the third day, the day of ye'r trial." He hesitated then said, "I know that ye're in love with the prince, lass but...I will always love ye." He reached through the bars and tenderly lifted her chin so that her eyes matched his. He leaned forward slowly, giving her time to pull back if she wished, and kissed her softly. Alanna responded with equal passion, trembling from fear and something else.

George whispered, barely taking his lips away from hers,

"Goddess willing ye will live. Think it over, Alanna."

Then as quietly as he came, he was gone.

Alanna sat and shivered those three days and debated her conscious.

Surely her own death for a cause she believed in was worth it. But no one else believed enough to search for proof. Roger would kill the Queen and Jon and the King and take over the throne.

If she joined the Rogue she would have a chance, perhaps she could save them yet. Perhaps.

Alanna struggled in the dark with these thoughts tumbling through her tired mind. She saw no one except for the guard who came once a day to bring her some food, and he would not speak to her. She was nearly insane from pent up energy and anxiety by dawn of the third day. She had still not fully made up her mind on what to do. She could try and argue her way out of the death penalty but she knew that even if she did manage to get a pardon she would be disowned from her family and end up having to work as a maid servant or perhaps worse, she would never be allowed to be a knight.

Alanna shivered and struggled going back and forth. Before she would have thought the choice would have been easy. To join the Rogue would ensure that she would be cared for. She knew George would make sure she was not hurt in any way. With them she would be allowed to be a woman, her true self. Alanna remembered her lessons with George's mother. She would take care of Alanna.

So when George came for her she was waiting. She stood stiffly when he came into the dark dungeon, quiet as could be.

"Lass, have ye come 't a decision?" Alanna nodded, then remembering it was too dark for him to see her said,

"I have. I will join you in the court of the Rogue"

George reached through the bars and whispered,

"You have to swear to it Alanna, will you swear"

"I will, George. It's my only choice." Alanna said stoutly. George nodded looking deep into her eyes. He took both her hands in his.

"Will ye swear, Alanna of Trebond, swear 't the Trickster God that ye will serve the Rogue loyally and faithfully 't the best of ye'r abilities? Until death or the Trickster God releases ye from His services"

Alanna took a deep breath and said,

"I swear. By Our Mother, The Goddess. I swear I will serve the Rogue until the Trickster God sees fit to release me. I swear"

George nodded solemnly and meeting her eyes squarely said,

"So mote it be"

_It was done._

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Author's Note: Okay, so there's the first chapter. I will try to get the second chapter out within the next couple of days. Please review me, it makes me happy!

Cheers,

Hannah


	2. The Escape

_**Chapter Two: **_

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_**The Escape**_

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_A/N: Ahem…sorry it's been so long. I've been sick and…well, no excuses. In any case I hope you'll like this long awaited update. This goes out to Jess: You'll make it. We'll do it together._

_A/N2: Also, I'm not sure exactly how old Alanna was when she started her monthlies, thus George found out about her true identity. Anyone know?_

_**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Tmora Pierce. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

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George watched Alanna slumber on his bed. She looked peaceful now, quite a change from the few hours earlier when her violet eyes had been filled with a horrible terror and betrayal. He caressed her with his warm hazel eyes, wishing he could caress her with more than only a look. George had found out about her true sex many years ago when she was a young girl. He had been shocked at the time, but now it seemed natural, and he could not see her as anything but. In recent years, though, his feelings for her had changed from friend and mentor, to something more. At least on his part.

George recalled back to their escape. When he had heard of her capture fear struck in his heart like he had never quite felt before. Maybe it wasn't love, but it was something more than just platonic feelings.

George's first intention was to race as fast as he could to her. But before he had taken the second step out the door his intelligence caught up with his fear. If he went to Alanna's side he would get caught, and at this point, he was Alanna's only chance. He waited until he could safely approach Gary in his private chambers.

"Gary." George rasped, realizing that he had not talked at all, to anyone since had had first heard the horrifying news.

Gareth of Naxen spun around, searching for him. George made no movement to alert him further to his presence, staying motionless on the window sill. Gary cursed and lit a lantern. George blinked as his pupils shrunk to better accommodate the light.

"Where is she, Noble?" George pleaded, unable to keep the tone from his voice. "Tell me"

Gary felt a tired smile break onto his face.

"George. Thank the Gods you're here. You need to…" He trailed off, George saw his Noble Blood seeping into him. Gary bit his lip, fear in his dark eyes,

"I don't know if I can." He avoided looking in George's eyes as he said it. George growled in frustration, trying to keep his rage in check.

"Hurry it up, boy. We haven't much time"

Gary's eyes flashed with a deep pain. He opened his mouth to protest then shut it. He stood and opened his mouth again,

"The Dungeons. East side of the Palace, Cell 118." Before George could jump back through the window Gary grabbed his arm. George spun his body back toward Alanna's friend. His eyes narrowed and he hissed,

"Unhand me, Your Grace." Gary pulled his hand back hastily, hurt in his eyes.

"You have to save her, George." Gary said fearfully, his hand, still extended, was shaking madly. Looking closer George could see the lines of held-back fear and stress.  
George nodded briefly before springing into the darkness and out of sight.

"Lass," he had called out into the darkness, praying that he was in the right place, at the right time and would evade capture, and save the girl. It seemed the Fates were on his side this time.

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"George"  
George knew he could spring her from her cell, but there was no way she would be safe from the monarchy…and his own people as well, unless he made her swear into his service. As much as it pained him to think of her going against all she believed right, there was no other choice but death, and that he could not let happen.

Alanna whispered to him the story that he already knew. They had discovered her sex, Roger was free, they were going to murder her.

George swore to save her, but, gritting his teeth he told her tightly that she would have to become one of the Rogue. He watched as Alanna's face tensed, she opened her mouth and started to speak but closed it with a snap. George watched as the realization on her face dawned, she knew as well as he did that if she did not accept this, they would kill her. For a horrifying moment he thought that she would refuse. Claim a Martyrs death before going against what she had been told since birth.

She muttered, not looking at him, "Will you give me time to think about it"

George felt his insides writhing with fear. He wanted to demand an answer from her, he wanted to break those bars and cradle her in his arms. He signed, suddenly more tired than he could ever remember being. He nodded and swallowed before speaking, trying to push back his fear. His voice came from his mouth husky and almost unrecognizable.

"They will kill ye, Alanna. It's this or death, I can't help ye, as much as I wish I could. And for that I am sorry." His voice cracked on his last word. He continued, "I will come 't ye again at dawn of the third day, the day of ye'r trial." He felt emotion well in him and said, his voice husky but for a different feeling, "I know that ye'r in love with the Prince, lass, but…I will always love ye"

He reached forward and pulled her to him, kissing her roughly, pleasantly surprised to find her responding to him with equal passion.

George pulled himself away from her almost roughly. After one last whisper he crept from the room, trying to keep from running back.

He was not ready to leave the Palace quite yet. He knew he would be taking a risk, maybe even a stupid one, but he didn't care. George knew he could sneak around quite well in the Castle, but never had he attempted to get into the Princes quarters. George had dressed himself in clothes that could easily disguise him as one of the kitchen staff. He slipped into the kitchens, ignoring the other workers who did the same to him, not sparing a second glance. George walked to one of them, putting a simple look in his normally sharp eyes. He pulled down his cap, looking all the world for a nervous kitchen boy, he bowed to the woman in front of him, watching him with an impatient gaze, George said in a high pitched voice that could pass him for a much younger boy,

"'s'cuse, Miss, I 'as orders 'ere 't bring a cup 'o 'ot tea 't 'Is 'Highness 'imself." He shuffled his feet, staring helplessly up at her.  
The woman looked down at him with a little more interest.

"You new here, laddy? Who hired ye?" She asked him kindly, George smiled inwardly, knowing he had her fool.  
He looked up at her helplessly, forcing a blush to his cheek, he shrugged helplessly,

"Forgive me, Miss. I canna remembe"

The woman chuckled,

"Think nothing of it, Lad. It must have been Maddy." George nodded eagerly,

"Tha's the one"

The woman smiled,

"Yes, she'd be the one. There's boilin' water o'er there on the fire. Here's a mug," She grabbed one from the wrack above her head and handed the cup to George. "The herbs are in the jars o'er there. Mind ye don't skimp"

She was about to wave him off when she caught his shoulder,

"Wha's your name, Lad"  
George spouted the first name that popped into his head,

"Me name is Thom, Miss." He thought of Alanna's brother sitting in his City of the Gods, what would he think if he knew his name was being used in crime?

The woman smiled and waved him off. George hurried over to the boiling kettle and poured some into the cup. He closed his eyes briefly, letting the steam fill his senses. He realized the dangerous time he was wasting and hurried to pour the tea leaves in and bustled out, head down.

George approached Jon's door, unsurprised to see Guards flanking it. He shuffled over slowly, giving the Guards a fearful looking, holding out his mug with shaking hands.

"Sir Miles of Olau asked 'or this 't be delivered 't 'Is 'Ighness." The Guards looked at him suspiciously, they patted him down for weapons and when they found none they opened the door and let him slip inside. George had stashed them safely behind a statue on his way there, anticipating security outside the Prince's door.

Jonathan was perched by his window, an apprehensive look on his face. Without glancing at George he said,

"You may leave it on the table. Tell Sir Myles that I thank him more his kindness"

"Jon." George said simply, lifting his head to reveal his eyes, the simple look faded.  
Jon swiveled around so fast he nearly fell. He grabbed George's arm and pulled him to a dark recess of his room, furthest from the door and the Guards alert ears.

"Is she all right?" Jon looked exhausted, he was gritting his teeth to tightly George though any minute he would snap.

"She is." George confirmed. He narrowed his eyes, "Though the betrayal she feels is crushing her"

Jon backed away from him,

"You think that this is my _choice_? I would do anything to be able to save Alanna myself. I have fought father this for hours. He refuses to budge, what more could I do?" He trembled, sinking into a chair.

George's eyes did not soften.

"_Roger_ is the traitor. He will kill you all. Did Alanna's proof not convince you? He had your mother wasting away, your eyes blinded"

Jon's eyes sparked with anger,

"I know this all. I have not the power to stop him"

George's eyes narrowed even further.

"Alanna will die for your protection, but you will not risk your own life for hers"

Jon's arm raised and started to swing down at George's face. George swung his leg out fast and caught Jon's own around the back, slamming him to his knees on the ground. He glowered menacing at him.

"You would do well to keep your hands to yourself, _Your Highness_." He sneered the last words, Jon winced as they fell. Silence pursued the room like a dark beast.

Jon's head lowered,

"Will you save her, George"

George said slowly,

"I will not force her. But I will try to spare her life. What time is her Trial"

Jon answered quickly,

"They are holding it at one o'clock in three days time. But she must be present for that, she must"

George interrupted him,

"I need none of your advice"

He spun from the room, pausing to dump the tea into a plant, clutching it tightly, for all the world like it was the only thing he had left.

For the next days George felt like time was moving backwards. He thought of Alanna trapped in a dark dirty cell and his jaw would clench and the overwhelming desire to smash something would fill him. He talked long with Rispah, preparing for a dangerous attempt to steal a Prisoner of The Monarchy. He convinced his Rogues to cause a distraction, giving them more time.

The Third Day dawned cool and gray. George snuck down to the Dungeons to Alanna.

She was waiting for him, a tired exceptance in her eyes. George prayed to The Trickster quickly that she had chosen the right thing. That HE had chosen the right thing.  
He asked Alanna what her choice was and felt relief rush into him as she accented to join him. George reached through the bars to caress her face, unable to help himself. He hated himself as he said,

"You have to swear to it Alanna. Will you swear"

He hated seeing the blank look in her eyes.

She swore. She held his hands and swore to The Trickster that she would serve The Rogue and until her Death she would be His. She swore by the Goddess.  
"So mote it be." George whispered, his eyes locked on hers.

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_**A/N3: I already have chapter 3 written, so I promise that it will not take me long to update.**__A/N4: Rispah? Is that her name? I can't remember if the spelling is right, nor find it in the books._


	3. George

_**AN/ Thank you all so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it. Sorry about the lack of puncuation in the last chapter, no idea what happened there, it was there when I WROTE it, but gone when I uploaded. Is there a grammer thief in ours midsts? Have a fantabulous Thanksgiving and enjoy this chapter, straight from me to you.**_

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**George**

-chapter three

George promised to return in the evening, well before sundown, but after her trial. Alanna looked petrified at the idea of being left in the dark and facing her people's hating eyes.

George continued hastily,

"Ye'r trial ye_must_ be at, or they will track you down. But, Alanna…the Trial is naught but a formality. They expect 't kill ye at sundown," he saw Alanna shiver involuntarily and George pulled her closer to him, their bodies touching through the bars. "The Trickster God has ye as Hs own now. He will not fail ye, and neither will I. I swear to ye Alanna, that ye will live long." He looked deep into her purple eyes and whispered softer yet, "I swear to ye."

"I believe you, George." Alanna breathed, "I'm just scared. And…regretful. I was supposed to_kill_ Roger. I would have, I know I would have if…. They were supposed to agree that I_earned_ my shield and let me have it. They were supposed to." A tear trickled down her soft cheek and she said so soft George almost couldn't hear, "They were supposed to believe me."

George held her tighter, kissing her tear stained face. Wishing that there was no barrier separating them and that he could take her home with him that instant. After they broke apart Alanna blinked away her tears. She would_not_ cry, Roger would not win this.

One o'clock crept stealthily and slowly at her, until sprinting the last two hours before she could do more than blink. Six Guards marched down to collect her. Two pinned her arms to her sides and tied her wrists behind her back. Two of them marched in front of her and two more behind, and two who bound her never loosening their painful grips. When they drug her into the Great Hall Alanna's eyes felt ready to pop from their place in her skull. The room was full to the brim, threatening to spill over. Her close friends huddled together on one side, looking miserable. Duke Gareth was on the same side as them, as was Captain Sklaw, Myles, even Steffan was crouched at the end of one bench, trying to look inconspicuous. Alanna bit her lip, she had lied to so many people, and yet she had some of them on her side. She saw some of her younger page friends sitting defiantly behind Gary and Raoul.

For the sake of her friends Alanna crushed back the tears threatening to spill over and raised her head high, ignoring the sneers from some and the unkind murmurs she could just hear. She put her shoulders back and brushed away thoughts of her dirty hair, her wrinkled clothes, the scrapes and bruises on her body. She met the eyes of all that looked at her with a calm gaze.

Myles sat on the edge of the hard bench, watching the girl walk through the room, like a Queen she looked, no fear and looking around with a cool gaze. Myles had known her real identity for years, but had never said a word until four days ago when she had confessed it to him. Myles knew that he dearly loved the girl like she was his own daughter, she listened to his stories with an interest no one had shown before her, and she was smart beyond her eighteen years. He had guessed of her hatered with Roger of Conte, but in spite of that he knew that she would not accuse him unless it was the truth. He was proud to be on her side.

Gareth of Naxen the younger watched his long time friend walk, head held high, into the room. When Roger had cut through her disguise it had not come as a shock to him to learn of her gender, he had known. Albeit not for long, she had told him when she was knighted a few weeks before. And before that…well, he had not _known_, but he had known that something was different and secret about small 'Alan'. He watched her face raptly as she was lead to the front of the room. She looked surprised at first, then full of sorrow and seemed resigned to her fate. Then just as quickly her gaze filled with a burning anger. When she came level with the section of bench her friends and him occupied she turned her head momentarily and let her features soften to a small smile. But it quivered, for the instant that it was there, he saw her fear buried deep under the blank eyes. She met his eyes and Gary nodded deeply, respect blazing in his hazel eyes. She looked forward again, her eyes directed at Duke Roger and the King and Queen, their faces grim. Gary tried to push the bad feeling in his gut down….

Raoul of Goldenlake had his arms folded tightly to keep them from shaking. He turned in his seat when he heard the door open, and followed Alan with his eyes. He felt more mixed up inside then he had ever been. On one hand he was hurt that Alan—Alanna had not told him hi--her secret. Had she not trusted him? He would not have told a soul! He did not love her any less than he had when she was…a boy…. Some many people seemed to have known, Jon, Gary, Myles, George, but not him. He supposed he couldn't blame her, if it had been him in that situation he was sure he would tell as little people as it was possible. He started as her violet eyes fell on his own. She met his gaze for only a moment, but her eyes were sad. He imagined the guilt and pain she must be feeling. No, he could not harbor any ill will to Alanna of Trebond. He watched fearfully as her gaze fell on the Duke and turned as cold as ice….

Roger of Conte watched with satisfaction, not even bothering to hide it from his face. Her eyes were defiant, yes, but just beyond that he could see that she was almost broken. Just one small thread held her. He would break her. He would make her pay for daring to cross him, to ruin his plans. She would not live to see him overcome the Throne, but oh would he think of her on that day. When he took his rightful place and placed the crown that rightfully belonged to him on his head, he would think of her. He hoped that she would feel his triumph from the grave. He hoped that her ghost would writhe in fury and regret, never able to rest peacefully. He hoped that she would scream out in pain, her silent voice filling her, he hoped she would curse the Goddess and feel all the betrayal and hate crush down on her. Roger's handsome face twisted into a menacing sneer and fought the laugh of triumph bubbling in him. He had finally bested Alanna of Trebond.

The King stood firm on his feet and surveyed the room grimly. He watched the Traitor walks towards him, her eyes flitting across the room. He watcher her eyes fall on his Nephew, Roger, and her eyes become slits, filled with such hatred that the King felt the need to shield his eyes, but he restrained. A second later those eyes fell on himself, but they did not hold the hate she harbored Roger. It was only…sad. She looked regretful. The King remembered back to when she had saved their only son, Jonathan, from the Sweating Sickness when he was but a day from death. How had it come to this?

Roger looked over the King feeling annoyance as he slid from his grasp for a moment. Roger reached out and held his uncles arm, as if steadying him. Appearance was everything right now. The King met Roger's eyes and Roger's slid out of focus as he concentrated on holding his uncle's mind to his. The King looked addled for a moment then his eyes cleared and resumed his angered look. He cleared his throat and the quiet buzzing ceased instantaneously. In a clear voice that echoed through the room he said,

"Alanna of Trebond, you are charged with attempted murder to the Queen and I myself, King of Tortall. You are further charged for lying of your identity and attempt to frame an innocent man. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty…your Highness." Alanna fought to keep her voice steady. Jon, who watched carefully thought he could detect a quiver in her voice under the cold tone. Alanna had been his lover, since she was sixteen and his squire. But now it seemed that fate was to pull them apart. Fate had thrown in a twist.

The King continued gruffly,

"Do you realize the full extent of the crimes you have committed, Trebond?"

Alanna opened her mouth, her eyes wide, she croaked out,

"B-but I didn't do it!"

The King continued one as though she had not spoken, his eyes fixed above her head as if she did on even exist.

"All evidence points to the accused as being guilty. She is an accomplished sorceress as was proved by her defeat of the Gray Death, dated-"

Alanna snarled angrily at the King, her composure breaking,

"When I saved you _SON_ AND _HEIR_!"

The King cleared his throat and continued,

"She is marked as having had a hatred of the Duke of Conte since the day he arrived," Alanna opened her mouth and the King spoke louder to deter her, "And furthermore, furthermore she broke into his private quarters to plant evidence that I, as your King, can vouch did not exist before."

"It DID!" Alanna screamed desperately.

"You lied about your identity, who's to say that you are…not…lying_…now!"_

The King roared these last words and tumult of noise broke over the spectators witnessing the scene.

"SILENCE!" The King bellowed, trying to regain control of the crowd. Roger of Conte sat content by his uncle's side, masking his pleasure with a grim look of a troubled mind.

Alanna sunk to her knees, staring wild-eyed at the chaos before her. How had it come to this madness? How had the King she served come think of her as a traitor and a sneak? Alanna's last damn of strength broke and tears streamed down her pale cheeks in silent grief. She mourned the loss of the life she had known.

After much arguing of both sides and all people the silence regained it's hold upon them, casting them into tense anticipation, some in fear, and some in loathing.

The King looked haughtily down on his subjects, dismayed by the amount of protest. How could they not see that this wretched evil girl was…. The King looked over at his wife seated next to him, her eyes pained and full of sorrow. Thegirl kneeled before him was…simply a young girl. It seemed incredulous to think that she would be capable of, or even imagine doing such crimes. Could he in good faith murder her?

"Uncle," The King heard distantly his nephew speaking to him. He turned dimly to look at Roger. Roger's eyes narrowed and the King stumbled back. Roger's arm snaked out and caught him by the shoulder.

Roger regained his control over his Uncle. It seemed that he would need to watch him constantly, he fought much more than he should. No matter, Roger thought, he would just have to bind him stronger still. The King's eyes once again filled her anger and he whirled around to face the crowd.

"_THERE WILL BE ORDER_!" His voice echoed in the room and instantly the crowd hushed to silence.

"The capital punishment used with traitors of the state must be withheld. The final punishment for the crimes of Alanna of Trebond, regardless of her sex, for threat against the crown, is in this circumstance, is Death by beheading."

The last word rang out into the eves of the palace. Alanna, still on her needs head down was shaking violently, her eyes averted from the accusing stares that seemed to come from every angle.

The King continued in a softer voice, but no less harsh.

"All in favor of this, please-"

The Duke stood and touched his uncle's arm, The King nodded his head in consent and sat in his thrown watching Roger intently.

"I would like to speak to you all." Roger said in a soft, but commanding and clear voice, "I am of the idea that this is not a matter of which we should vote. For truly, what is there to decide? This-" Roger paused for a moment before speaking, "this woman." His tone dripped with disdain as he uttered the word Woman.

"This woman has done the Unspeakable. She has fooled even my Gift, which is something that has not happened since I was but a student. How, you might ask, could this have happened? Am I not among the most power sorcerers in Tortall, if not everywhere? How could I have not seen this, might be crossing you mind. I wish, oh how I wish, that I could come up with a suitable answer other than the one I am about to give you. But I am unable to. The only answer I can give you is that some darker powers must be at work. Some evil lives inside her, a dark God, trying to test and crush our spirits and strength. So I ask you this: Will we let them win? Will we be conquered by this spy of Evil?"

A ripple of approval for Roger cast over the crowd, Alanna was pained to see there was not enough to let her live. People were standing, supporting Roger with blood-lusting eyes. Her last chance was over. Alanna felt shame wash over her. Was she at fault, somehow? Did she deserve this like everyone seemed to think?

Myles watched in horror as Alanna hung her head, her cheeks flushed. He wanted to do something, had to say something…but what could he say? Who would listen to an old grizzled soldier? His heart clenched at the thought of losing the person who had brought him such companionship and joy.

The King regained silence. The room watched the man who give life or take away, for Alanna that life was her own. He started to speak, to make his final decision.

"The punishment for the accused is to be death.

It was decided. Alanna was to die at sundown.

Alanna was pushed back into her cell immediately following the adjournment of her 'trial'. The panic she had been fighting was over coming her. She couldn't breath, she need air! Her body wracked with tremors, unable to stop her bodies fervent rocking. Her mind whirled with thoughts; she could not except that her people, the ones she would fight for, were throwing her away.

"Alanna," a whisper pushed its way through her tortured mind. "Lass, listen 't me.

Alanna shivered and rocked harder, her head refusing to turn to George's face. George reached through and turned her head, his hand holding her chin. Her face was blotchy and swollen. But the part that made George gasp when he forced her to meet his eye was the defeated look in her eyes, the awful acceptance.

George wanted to comfort her, to hold her but there was no time. He said quickly,

"We must hurry, they are coming soon. Take this-" He handed her a strong rope through the bars of her cell, "Thread it through the bars. Good, just like that. Hand me the ends. Alright, back away from the bars."

George heaved on the rope. The rope was infused with thieves magic, and would open even the strongest metal bars. He had paid much to get it, he prayed silently that it would hold true.

It did. The bars groaned, George winced at the horrible noise, and then with one last heaved snapped from their binding in the ceiling. George reached through and grabbed Alanna's arm roughly, pulling her to her feet and out. Keeping a tight hold on Alanna's hand he pushed and tugged her along a passage, not speaking. Alanna stumble, trying to keep up with George's brisk pace, he was almost running, and looked around dazedly, trying to make sense of the situation and where they were. Her hurried thoughts discerned that they must be in some hidden wing of the palace, one only George seemed to know since they did not meet anyone along the passage.

A moment later they were suddenly outside, Alanna blinked, as though she distrusted her senses. She had thought that she would never see the sky again, expecting to die in that dank shadowy prison. She felt more than relief at its return, she felt as though she was returning to an old friend. She did not have much time to marvel before they were indoors again, though she could not see anything more than she had in her cell. She felt panic rising in her throat. She heard a hiss behind her and whirled around as light filled what turned out to be a wooden walled room. George stood before her holding a lantern which was casting a flickering, but comforting, glow on the walls around her.

Before she could do anything more, speak, take in her surroundings, she was in George's arms. She burrowed her face in his shirt, his rapid heartbeat vibrating her skin. She allowed herself to sob into his shoulder, great soaking sobs that she would have been mortally ashamed by at any other time.

Her tears cleared after a long while, she noticed that she had somehow ended up winding up sitting on a bed next to George, her cheek resting against his. George pulled back so that there eyes made contact and wiped her tears softly with his rough fingers. He said softly,

"You're safe now."

* * *

_**Is Steffan spelled correctly?If not I offer my apologies!**_

_**AN/ I'll try to get out a new chapter soon, but I'm having a crazy-busy life at the moment so don't hold me to it! Thanks!**_


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